


On the Desk

by Caius



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Desk Sex, Fraternization, M/M, Magnus' poor benighted desk tidy, Size Kink, Valve Fingering (Transformers)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 12:04:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17022291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caius/pseuds/Caius
Summary: "How about we get all this useless stuff off your desk and you just frag me on it?" Prompt from cocaptainrodimus on tumblr. Originally published on tumblr on August 9, 2015.





	On the Desk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cocaptainrodimus (wellisntthatshiny)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wellisntthatshiny/gifts).



“It’s not _useless_!” Magnus insisted, grabbing his desk tidy and pulling it quickly out of range. 

Other than his beloved desk tidy, though, there was little else of importance. Rodimus’ whims provided a remarkable incentive to put anything important carefully away in a drawer or on a shelf when it was not being used.  


And he’d put away his current datapad as soon as Rodimus entered the room. “Proceed,” Magnus said, as soon as the desk tidy was secured.  


Rodimus beamed at him and jumped into his arms. “Be rough,” he said, clutching at Magnus’ giant shoulders and bending his torso back enticingly. “I want _dents_. I want your desk to be painted red and gold, with an indent from my aft where you pounded it through.”

“Captain,” Magnus settled him quite gently at first on the top of the desk, his legs still spread wide against Magnus’ chest. One huge hand held Rodimus’ chest down, the other slid between his legs, broad enough to force them further apart.  


“Yes,” Rodimus said, both of his hands clutching Magnus’ wrist, his panel popping open, hot and wet and hard and desperate against Magnus’ touch. “I’m your Captain and _I_ want your desk decorated in my colors. And my aft indents.”  


“…Yes. Yes, sir,” Magnus said, leaning forward, putting just a little bit more weight on Rodimus’ chest. Rodimus beamed up at him in encouragement, and sighed in delight when Magnus pressed a single huge finger into his oh-so-ready valve.

Magnus’ fingers were bigger than most mechs’ _spikes_ , and Rodimus loved it.  


“Magnus…” Rodimus said, wiggling and clutching at every bit of Magnus he could reach, rubbing his bright hot body all over Magnus’ desk and pressing back up against that delightful finger. “ _More_.”  


“Is that a command?” Magnus asks, his finger pausing just short of Rodimus’ ceiling node, his other hand keeping Rodimus from pushing back that extra little bit.

“Yes! I mean, no, I mean –” Rodimus stopped thrashing under Magnus’ grip for a moment, serious. “I – you know it’s always optional, I’m not really your commander here, right?”

“I know.” Magnus said, and he let the finger withdraw slightly. “But I still…enjoy the idea, of my Captain’s colors decorating my desk. My _private_ desk.”

Rodimus’ smile lit up the whole room. “Then frag your Captain into the desk, Mags.”

And Magnus did.  



End file.
